When A Knight Won His Spurs

And other assembly bangers

I was talking to an ex colleague the other day, who is working temporarily at another primary school. “They don't sing, Fiona,” she lamented. “I’ve been there a week and there hasn’t been a single song in assembly.”

I found this comment achingly sad. I have the privilege of leading singing in my school, and it's always one of the most joyous and uplifting parts of my day. And as a child, I felt the same.

Most of us who were brought up in primary schools in England will have vivid memories of communal singing in assembly, usually to an older lady teacher playing the piano while the words were displayed on an overhead projector (oh the heady joys of being given responsibility for changing the acetates in singing assembly, and heaven forfend you placed them the wrong way round!). For me, a child of the 1970s and 80s, our musical diet in our Church of England primary consisted mainly of hymns from the seminal collection, Come and Praise, pictured above. This included such absolute bangers as Kumbaya, Give Me Oil In My Lamp, Lord of the Dance, Cross Over The Road My Friend (an absolute dirge but total earworm) and Sing For Joy. My primary school music teacher favoured Come and Praise 2, and so I didn't get to experience the favourite of many of my adult friends from the first book, Autumn Days (when the grass is jewelled…), until I was myself a teacher. But my own favourite of all favourites from Come and Praise 2 was When A Knight Won His Spurs. I can still recite all the words now without recourse to a search engine:

When a knight won his spurs, in the stories of old,

He was gentle and brave, he was gallant and bold.

With a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand,

For God and for battle he rode through the land.

No charger have I, and no sword by my side,

Yet still to adventure and battle I ride,

Though back into storyland giants have fled,

And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead.

Let faith be my shield, and let joy be my steed,

‘Gainst the dragons of anger, the ogres of greed,

And let me set free with the sword of my youth

From the castle of darkness the power of the truth.

I mean, what better hymn for an imaginative 8 year old steeped in fairy tale lore - or indeed for a 53 year old hoping to still make a difference in this world?

Finally checking the details of this song, not for lyrics but for origins, I found that it was written in 1931 by Jan Struther, the creator of Mrs Miniver, who also wrote Lord of All Hopefulness, another hymn I loved so much I had it at my wedding. Both hymns were sent to folk melodies by Ralph Vaughan Williams, which is why they have that lilting, eminently singable quality.

In England, we don't pride ourselves on our singing ability, on the whole, unlike, say, the Irish and the Welsh. Singing in church, for a wedding, for example, tends to be a bit apologetic, a bit lacklustre. But get a crowd in a football stadium, and suddenly everyone raises the roof. We know, in our heart of hearts, that singing together brings us together. And most of us had our first taste of it at primary school.

This 2019 article in the TES laments the demise of daily singing (a daily act of worship is still statutory in all UK state schools, but, tellingly, it hasn't been checked by Ofsted since 2004) and outlines the research showing that singing together is one of the best forms of developing social cohesion and friendship.

I’m RE and Collective Worship lead at my current school, and every year, as part of their end of year report, we ask the children about their favourite aspect of collective worship. Every year, over 85% of pupils across the school say it's the communal singing. They’ll say things like, “I feel part of one big family when we sing,” “It helps me to reflect on the stories we’ve listened to,” “It makes me feel calm and happy.” Adults too, comment on how a good singsong sets them up for the day.

When I was asked to be music lead in my second teaching job, after the music specialist left, I did panic a bit. The job involved overseeing the music curriculum but also planning and leading the weekly singing practice. I can read music, but I can’t play the piano or guitar. Luckily, my school had just purchased a set of CDs called No Pianist? - No Problem! (which I, infamously, misheard the first time it was mentioned as No Penis? - No Problem!). This collection had backing tracks for many of the songs of worship I remembered from my youth, as well as newer ones - The Magic Penny, Shine Jesus Shine, Colours of Day - so that I could concentrate on leading the singing rather than accompanying badly. It worked really well, and our school became renowned over the following years for the quality of our singing. School carol services at our local church were frequently interrupted by applause from parents, even when the song was meant to be a congregational carol rather than a performance. Having been a choral singer myself for many years, I found that I really enjoyed teaching others to sing well.

Nowadays, we have a brilliant company called Out of the Ark, who are local to us but sell their products all over the world, and provide interactive Words on Screen versions of all their songs. They don't have When A Knight Won His Spurs, sadly, but they do a cracking version of Lord of the Dance, the incredibly popular Harvest Samba, and the frankly bonkers I’m A Spring Chicken. And my Key Stage 2 childrens’ current favourite? Somewhat bizarrely, it's the very old hymn What A Friend We Have In Jesus. It's a tricky one for young children, because the words are so old fashioned, but I took the time in our singing practices to explain words and phrases like “solace” and “cumbered with a load of care”. Once you know what you're singing about, you can really put your heart and soul into it. And the Out of the Ark version sets this Victorian standard to a slow, soft rock backing track that really builds to the last verse. (You can listen to it on their website here. ) The children respond brilliantly to the dynamics in the backing track, and practically raised the roof of the school hall last week. The teacher on rota at our singing practice said, as the final notes died away, “You how people say, “Take it to church!”? Well, children, you took it to church.” And their beaming faces as they sang their hearts out said it all. They didn't actually need any praise or affirmation. The feeling they got from being part of the song was more than enough.

One of the wonderful things about all of this is that you don't have to be a committed believer for the music to have an effect on you. Even Jan Struther was an agnostic. But she leant into the power of song to change lives. And nearly 100 years later, so can we. Have a listen to some of the songs you sang as a child. And feel that connection and joy come flooding back.